A Game of Three
by ObviouslyLilyMimbletonia
Summary: "This was just a game of three we were all unknowingly and willingly playing. The winners will live happily ever after. The losers will fall and burn." (A Sherlolly and Molliarty Fanfiction) [The cover image is mine. Edited it with all my heart.]
1. Chapter 1 - Diversion

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sherlock and if I did own it, I'd be the happiest fangirl on earth!

 **A/N:** Hello! This is my first attempt at a fanfiction for BBC One's "Sherlock". This is also my first ever Sherlolly (with a little Molliarty) fanfiction! I love Sherlock so much that I can't resist writing a fanfiction as a tribute to the series' wonderful modern adaptation of the original Sherlock Holmes stories and also to the actors that make up the success of the series. I am also writing this fanfiction to ease my fangirl heart from the agony of waiting for Season 4 on 2017! To be honest, I am torn between Sherlolly and Molliarty. I love the two ships so much that I can't fully decide which one is my OTP. I also have BROTPs like Johnlock, Adlock, Mormor and Sheriarty (which I will try to sprinkle all over this fanfiction). This Sherlolly fic was supposed to be a one-shot fluff, but then I thought of a plot that caught my interest. I hope you guys will like this fic and don't forget to leave a review! Let me know what you think and suggestions are always welcome!

Enjoy reading!

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 **Chapter 1 - Diversion**

 _"He was a really sweet man."_

Molly said lowly. Her voice hinted slight sadness as she stared blankly at the wall of Mrs. Hudson's dining room. She recalled all those memories. Those beautiful moments that were huge lies her ex-boyfriend Jim Moriarty had pulled off. "We used to have coffee together during our break. We even watched Glee together when he went over to my house. We also went out three times. He took me to fancy restaurants and to beautiful places I never had the chance to go to. I really thought he was the one for me. He was so kind, so perfect, he did the most awkward but cutest little things and he had the brightest smile I ever saw. His eyes were so round and beautiful. I could stare at them all day long..."

Molly's lips tried its best to tug a small smile. Remembering every bit of Jim from IT was both bitter and sweet, like a delicious toxic slowly poisoning her mind. Mrs. Hudson could see the sadness in the pathologist's eyes as Molly turned to look at her. "... but he wasn't the person I thought he was. He wasn't even real. It was all a lie... so I ended it, me and him."

"Goodness gracious." Mrs. Hudson sighed as she reached out for Molly's hands from across the dining table. "Who would have even thought he was actually a criminal mastermind at first? Based on your story, he seemed like an angel."

"I couldn't even let myself believe that he was capable of doing evil things. I mean, my cat Toby really liked him." Molly let out a sad laugh before she continued. "It was difficult to let that thought sink in before. I couldn't believe I dated a psychopath."

"Those types of men really do fancy you, don't they, Molly?" Mrs. Hudson's words made Molly sit up straight. She was taken aback, causing her cheeks to turn slightly rosy. Mrs. Hudson let out tiny laughs at the young lady's reaction. Molly couldn't help but laugh along too.

 _'Oh, Mrs. Hudson, if you only knew... they are my type of men too.'_ Molly thought as she moved away one of her hands from Mrs. Hudson's and placed it over her cheek. The smile on her face was wider and less lonely than earlier. "It's possible that I'd be murdered if I ever had another boyfriend like Jim. I was lucky enough to be spared. But I guess silly things like that happen sometimes. We fall in love with people we don't expect to love."

"Well, love is silly itself, dear..."

"Nobody else could have said it any better, Mrs. Hudson." Molly couldn't agree more. She broke up with Tom for almost a year ago and following that came the stunt that Jim had done on each and every telly all over London. Fear and heartbreak warped her heart to confusion and distress. She had no idea if all that had happened for the past months made her stronger or more vulnerable than ever. Things haven't been well for her and she had nobody else to confide her grief to but Greg Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson. She frequently visited her closest friends and she was so relieved that they were around for they have been a huge help to her. She told stories about Tom just a few minutes ago, but she had no idea how the topic of the conversation went from Tom to Jim. Nevertheless, it felt good letting all her frustrations out. "Mrs. Hudson, I think I'd have to follow Sherlock's advice after all."

"What do you mean, deary?" asked Mrs. Hudson, her eyebrows forming a crease in the middle of her forehead at the mention of "Sherlock", already expecting that the advice wouldn't be good at all. Despite the young man's intellectual prowess, he has the emotional intelligence of an insect. Nothing really encouraging ever came out of Sherlock's mouth most of the time. To Molly, however, anything Sherlock said meant everything.

"Well he said to me years ago that I shouldn't attempt myself to get into a relationship." Molly shrugged. The smile on her face faded. She looked down at her coffee and stared at it as she remembered every bit of Sherlock's words. She could hear his baritone voice resonate inside her mind. "Probably he deduced how bad I am in relationships. I can tell right from Jim and to Tom as well, that he was right back then. I should have listened to him."

"Oh nonsense." Mrs. Hudson said, gently squeezing the young lady's soft hand. "You're a lovely lady who deserves a good man. Sometimes relationships don't work out, but you'll grow and learn from it."

Molly's eyes still fixed itself at the dining table, eyeing her cup of coffee that reflected back her pretty face. "Maybe it's my fault why my past relationships with Jim and Tom ended badly..."

"Molly dear, don't blame yourself if things didn't turn out well for you with Jim or Tom. You see, Jim wanted different things and Tom didn't seem committed enough. You'll find the right man for you someday. Trust me." Mrs. Hudson let out a little sigh before she continued. "Also, don't you ever listen to Sherlock when he talks about relationships. You know that man, he never even had anybody before John came along. I believe, based on your stories, that Jim is more boyfriend-material than Sher—"

Mrs. Hudson was cut off when she and Molly heard a loud thud from outside the door of the dining room. They both swiveled their heads to the door that was left slightly ajar. The two women could easily make out who the figure was. The man standing behind the door was tall, had curly hair and was wearing a long dark coat — It was Sherlock Holmes.

"Sherlock?!" Molly and Mrs. Hudson said in unison. The tall man swiftly opened the door and entered the threshold without saying a word.

"What are you doing standing outside my dining room?" Mrs. Hudson stood as she looked up the tall man, whose bright eyes darted at every corner of the room, trying its best to avoid looking at Molly's direction. "I thought you were busy solving a case with John."

"We went home early. Mary is out for some errands this evening so John needed to go home to take care of the baby." He said as he gently pushed past Mrs. Hudson. His eyes were still searching for something the two women had no idea of. "She's always been very busy lately, Mary. Frequently heading out of the house like it was her duty to roam around the city."

"Well, that's what you always do too, Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson said as her eyes followed the detective's movements.

"Sherlock." Molly said as her eyes stared at his tall and wide back "What are you looking f—"

"Mrs. Hudson, where did you put my skull?" Sherlock asked as he turned to face the old lady. He sounded slightly annoyed, ignoring the fact that Molly tried to speak to him.

"Your skull? I never even went inside your flat today. Maybe you've misplaced it somewhere else, Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson said but she herself started checking if the skull of Sherlock's old friend was unknowingly in her possession. Sherlock wouldn't accuse her unless his deductions said otherwise. "Have you tried searching in your flat first?"

"I know you wouldn't mind finding it for me. I need to have it as soon as possible." Sherlock said before sitting on the chair where Mrs. Hudson once sat, ignoring what the old lady had just said to him. She stopped in her search and slowly turned to face the detective.

"I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper, Sherlock. And look, I have a visitor to talk to." She nodded her head at Molly who stayed dead silent, feeling a little awkward about her presence in the scene.

"I'm sure Molly Hooper wouldn't mind. I'll keep her company while you're gone." Sherlock said as he crossed his shoulders over his chest, his eyes finally meeting Molly's. The pathologist tried her best not to blush at his glance but failed to do so. She looked away and bit her lips to avoid the urge of her lips to tug in a wide smile. "If you've already found it, bring it up on my flat along with biscuits and tea. Molly and I will be heading up there in a minute."

"Wait what?" Molly asked, bewildered at Sherlock's last statement as she looked both at the landlady and the detective, wondering if this has always been a part of their daily routine even when John was still living here with them.

"I am definitely going to have a word with your mother when she visits!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed, partly frustrated but still did what she was told regardless. She turned to Molly and mouthed "sorry". The young lady replied with a nod and reassured the landlady that she did not mind being left alone with Sherlock. Once Mrs. Hudson left the dining room, Molly turned to Sherlock and was startled to see him already looking back at her. The way he looked at her was overwhelming, but she knew it meant nothing but him trying to be an observant. Silence filled the room before Sherlock destroyed it with his deep baritone.

"Come, Molly." He said as he walked to the door, expecting her to follow.

"Were you listening?" Molly asked. She wasn't able to control herself. Knowing Sherlock, he was good at prying. He might have heard everything she and Mrs. Hudson had talked about. Sherlock halted just as he was about to grab the handle of the door. He turned to Molly.

"I got in just several minutes ago. I saw your winter coat hanging on the coat hanger. How did I know it was your winter coat when you have never worn it in my presence? Simple, it had a few strands of your long brown hair and had a few cat furs that were definitely from your cat, Toby. Your winter coat also has this familiar scent that is the same with your lab coat and with what you are currently wearing. I presume it is a perfume of a famous celebrity that you are a huge fan of. Also, based on the dried snow that had already seeped into the fabric of your coat, you've been here approximately 45 minutes ago. I figured you were here because Mrs. Hudson asked help from you with preparations for the Christmas party tomorrow. Unfortunately, I was wrong with the latter." Sherlock said confidently and straightforwardly. Molly took a deep breath as he spoke. She felt really terrified but pleased at the same time whenever he tried to deduce her. It was as if he could always see right through her. The mere thought of it weakened her knees. "Love has always been a primary and leading factor for the fall of mankind."

"So you did listen..." Molly confirmed. There was a few seconds of silence before Sherlock responded.

"It couldn't be avoided." Sherlock said as he turned to open the door. "Let's continue this conversation in my flat, Molly."

Molly was about to say something but then she stopped herself when she noticed that Sherlock was holding the door open for her, obviously insisting her to go out the dining room first before him. The lady then walked out of the dining room without a word. She went out of Mrs. Hudson's room and turned to the stairs heading to the detective's flat, Sherlock Holmes in her wake.

Molly's eyes took in the sight of Sherlock's flat. It was quite a mess; Books were piled up on his desk, curtains weren't dusted regularly, all the papers of the music compositions he did were scattered on the floor (probably the wind that came from the window had blown it across the room while he was out playing detective) and his laptop was left open on his sofa, with only 10 percentage of battery life left. She darted her eyes on the mantelpiece and saw the skull he had asked Mrs. Hudson to look for. It was placed on the left side of the mantelpiece just above the wide hanging mirror. It seemed untouched for weeks based on the thin layers of dust sprinkled all over its surface.

"I thought you said that skull was in Mrs. Hudson's room?" asked Molly. Sherlock also turned to the mantelpiece and then back at Molly.

"Diversion. I made it all up so that I could get her out of the dining room." Sherlock said as he took a step closer to where Molly was standing. His eyes fixed on her long brown hair.

"And why did you do that?" Molly then turned around to see Sherlock already looking straight back at her. This had caught her off-guard again and could not help but wonder why he kept doing it.

"I'd like to have a word with you privately." The tall man said before gesturing his hand to the chair that was once John's. "Have a seat. I'm sure Mrs. Hudson will have the tea and biscuits ready in a few minutes."


	2. Chapter 2 - Not Anymore

**A/N:** Hello again! Thank you to those who followed and reviewed the first chapter of this fanfic of this latest chapter was fun to write. I love Molly Hooper so much. I mean, what's not to love about her, right? I hope you guys will enjoy reading the second chapter. Don't forget to leave a review! I love you guys so much! Long live the Sherlockians!

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 **Chapter 2 - Not Anymore**

Tea and biscuits were served without fail, just as Sherlock expected. Mrs. Hudson finally found out about the skull not entirely missing and misplaced. She could only shake her head as she massaged her forehead. Having the detective around with her was like taking care of a spoiled brat of a child who always got himself into a heap of trouble.

"So..." Molly began the conversation after sipping her tea. "What was today's case all about?"

"There have been three consecutive murders this week. All three victims were killed in different and various methods that did not match one another. So it is impossible to assume that these murders were all done by one serial killer, because serial killers tend to have one or few similar ways in killing off their victims. It is possible though, that there were three different killers or assassins who have been roaming around London killing people. However, all three killers left the same style of messages on their victims after the murder. Which does conclude that all those murders are somehow connected with each other. They weren't just random citizens that got unluckily murdered." Sherlock then showed pictures of the crime scenes to Molly. She placed her cup of tea back at the tray before she studied the pictures. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end for she could not avoid the thought that these murders were possibly the work of Jim Moriarty.

For some reason, she felt an unusual thrill that coursed through her veins. She was undeniably certain that he was back. He might only be lurking in the dark corners of the city for now, waiting for his prey to fall for his trap. And that one thought terrified her despite the developing excitement. Sherlock, however, might disregard that idea of hers because he was perfectly convinced that the psychopath was dead. It just so happened that he witnessed his death himself.

The pathologist still examined the details of each photograph regardless of all the assumptions her thought had already formulated. Molly, who was too engrossed in analyzing the murders, gave Sherlock the opportunity of stealing glances at her.

"All these murders were planned thoroughly, and it seemed like these three different killers were ordered by one specific person." Molly said, more to herself than to the detective sitting across her. Nevertheless, Sherlock still felt the urge to answer back.

"It was well thought out and properly rehearsed before the actual murder happened. It was a clean and smart murder." Sherlock leaned back at his chair and placed the tips of his fingers together before smirking. "However, not smart enough."

"I see..." Molly returned all the pictures back to Sherlock. She could feel her face burn as their fingers touched when Sherlock's hands reached out to claim the pictures back. Her eyes moved to his direction. The detective was smirking, which Molly figured were the effects of both the man's sheer excitement and confidence towards the case. The man's presence in front of Molly was a wonderful sight. His dark hair knew every curve and every direction. Each curl that fell over his forehead looked beautiful. His cheekbones cast small shadows that brought out the magnificent shape of his face. His bright green eyes were like precious emeralds illuminating through the reflection of the faint light coming from the fireplace. The way his lips moved and flexed into smirks and grins amazed her. She wondered how it would feel like to kiss them. Molly got lost into Sherlock as all her thoughts trailed away. _"I see..."_

"'You see… what exactly?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow, amused by how Molly was spacing out. He wanted to laugh but he held himself back, remembering John saying that he should avoid being rude towards women, especially towards Molly. The pathologist snapped herself back from her daze with the help of Sherlock's deep baritone. She then stammered as she searched for the words she had lost into the vastness of her mind. Molly had failed once more to control herself. She thought she had already gotten over Sherlock, but he kept giving her reasons why she should give in and fall for him once more.

"I'm sorry! So so sorry! That was so rude of me. I didn't mean to stare—I was just—I couldn't—"

"Calm down and have some more tea, Molly. You seem like you might collapse any minute." said Sherlock as he poured a little more tea into Molly's cup. The young lady took her cup with both of her hands, trying her best not to tremble. She felt so embarrassed that she wished she could have vanished from her seat and never came back. She took a few sips and at the same time tried to calm herself down before she placed her cup back down on the tray. When she felt ready to speak again, she took a deep and subtle breath before doing so.

"What I meant was that... I now see and understand why you wanted to have a word with me privately."

"You do?" Sherlock said, partly impressed that she understood before he even said a word about the matter.

"Yes, I do." Molly replied, tucking in some of her brown locks into the back of her ear. "You wanted to invite me to solve that case with you because it seems like John is now too preoccupied with the baby."

"No."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"When I said I wanted to have a word with you privately, I didn't mean it was about the case." Sherlock went back to leaning on his chair as he put both his hands on the sides of his seat. He almost thought Molly already had an idea on what he actually wanted to talk about. Sadly, she still had no clue whatsoever. "John and I will still be the ones who'll solve the case together. I have invited you here to talk about a different matter."

"What is it about? Is there something wrong, Sherlock?" Molly asked, her heart started to race inside her chest. A mixture of unknown fear and worry clouded her thoughts as she waited for Sherlock to answer.

"I would just like to take a part of your and my time of the day wherein we could engage ourselves in social and intimate interaction, consume edible substances as you and I both witness and listen to the performances of several people on the—"

"Sherlock, wait." Molly spoke, cutting off Sherlock in the process. "Do you mean that you want to...?"

"Spend the remaining time I'll be having on a certain day with you in the future? Yes." Sherlock stated as he clasped both of his hands together above his chin. Molly's face burned scarlet as she took her tea once more to cover her red face from Sherlock. She drank all her tea down to its last drop before putting the cup back to wear she usually placed it. The pathologist's heart was pounding against her chest. She wanted to pinch herself just to check if she was only dreaming, but the warmth of the fireplace, the taste of tea in her mouth, and the man sitting and looking back at her was no doubt real and true. It was all enough to prove that what was happening right now was real.

"In short, Sherlock..." Molly's lips opened but no words came out easily. "You wanted to go on a date and watch Glee... with me?"

"Apparently." Sherlock said before he cleared his throat and took a deep audible breath. Molly saw him rubbing his hands together as he tried to avoid eye contact from her. Just like her, he too was nervous as hell. For Sherlock Holmes to say such words, it might have taken all his guts and will to say it out of his mouth. "If... if it is in your convenience."

"I'd love to." Molly said straightforwardly, without any hints of doubt and uncertainty. This made the detective raise his head to gaze back at her.

"You don't mind?" Sherlock asked, seeing Molly's face light up in joy.

"Of course I don't, Sherlock. Why would I mind?" Molly couldn't contain her emotions. It was overflowing like a river running down through the jagged lands of a mountain. She tried to bite her lips to control a wide beam that had already come out. "Why did you suddenly want to go on a date with me? What about your case?"

"John and I got a lot of time for the case." Sherlock stood from his seat and made his way to Molly's spot. The young lady watched him move closer, her eyes stayed fixed on his bright green ones. "Molly, the reason why I want to go on a date with you is because I want to."

Molly finally stood from her seat as well just when Sherlock was only less than a foot away from her. She looked up at the tall man; both of them locked gazes with each other. The silence spread across the room in an instant, but it did not emit awkwardness. Nobody felt the discomfort of being close to one another.

"You've changed quite dramatically, Molly Hooper." Sherlock said as he reached to hold Molly's hand. The young lady felt the warmth of his wide palms. She felt him hold her small hands firmly. For the first time in almost a year, she felt secured.

"I did change." Molly said, her eyes never leaving his. "But there is only one thing that never changed in me."

"I know." Sherlock then brought his lips to her forehead. Molly closed her eyes at the feel of his warm lips. She had never felt any safer. She had never truly thought that this moment would come. And now that it was finally happening right before her very eyes, all the heartbreak and fear she had inside her heart were finally buried underneath the past. The young pathologist changed dramatically after all these years, but despite everything, she never changed her feelings towards the detective. "Thank you, Molly Hooper, for always being there when nobody else was. You truly are the most important and most valuable person in my life."

"I'll never leave you, Sherlock." Molly felt Sherlock's hand hold her small and soft ones tighter, but it didn't hurt. "You know I won't."

Both of them exchanged loving smiles. Molly wanted to stay like that with Sherlock forever. His hand in hers, her eyes on his, their smiles at each other. She had so many regrets for the past few years. And right now, Molly was sure she didn't want to let go of Sherlock Holmes anymore.

 _Not anymore._

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 **A/N:** Well, it seems like Sherlock and Molly have started dating. I love those two dorks so much! And don't worry, my friends, I'll have the third chapter posted as soon as possible. Also, make sure you guys follow this story so that you'll be notified when the next one is published. have a wonderful day, everyone! _  
_


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